One Good Line by templemarker [Glee, Brittany/Santana, NC17]
One Good Line
by templemarker
Notes: For voleuse in femslash10. Brittany/Santana set in Season 1, so this is prior to the love revelations that set my heart aflutter. No spoilers for Season 2, no warnings, 1200 words. Originally posted here.
***
"Do you ever think about, like, babies and stuff?"
Santana peers over the edge of Teen Vogue, seeing Brittany twirl a perfectly pressed curl of blond hair around her finger. She's right in the middle of answering a completely vital quiz that will tell her whether Puck was going to have sex with her this weekend or not, and she seriously does not want to be thinking about babies at the same time.
"No," she says shortly, ducking back behind the magazine defiantly.
"Babies' heads are all squishy when they're born," Britt says. "Did you know that?" If Santana didn't know better she'd think Brittany was actually looking at something, but they'd spent so much time together Santana could tell the difference between Britt's spaced-out look and her trying to focus on something look. That is kind of specialized knowledge.
"You know I didn't read those creepy pamphlets Quinn was carrying around," Santana snaps. "Pregnancy is like the last thing I ever want to think about, Brittany. You double-wrap a dick for a reason." At least, you did once one of your closest friends showed up pregnant to cheerleading practice and pretended nothing was happening for months.
"I know," Brittany says. "That's why I switched to carrying around extra-large condoms. But, babies. It's weird. Quinn's having one, and it's all created out of nothing and stuff. I don't get it."
"I don’t get why we're talking about this," Santana says. She tosses the magazine to the floor and pushes herself up on the bed, crawling over to Brittany, who’s still twirling her hair, jesus christ. One track mind, and Santana’s just irritated enough that getting Britt’s mind onto something else will pose a challenge. She runs a hand up Brittany's leg, stopping just short of her skirt, and Brittany still isn't getting with the picture here, so Santana huffs out a sigh and pulls Britt to her.
When Santana traces her tongue along the seam of Brittany's lips, it's like a switch is flipped and Brittany finally seems to understand that Santana would like her mind to run around on other topics, please and thank you. Brittany kisses like she breathes, like it's the most normal thing in the world for her to be doing at that very moment. As if she and Santana didn't spend two months in seventh grade figuring out how to make it all work and feel okay before ever testing it out on a boy.
They've gotten better with practice--with a lot of practice--and now they work through undressing (just enough) and touching (never enough) with ease. Santana pushed up Britt's skirt to skim hands over her spanky pants and the nothing that lies beneath them. It's actually not that awesome, because the pants are polyester and they don't breathe, but Brittany never listens to her.
Brittany is hot and slick and Santana knows just how to crook her fingers and circle her thumb get Britt excited. Not that it takes much; hell, Santana is already raring to go and that dildo she bribed one her college guys to get her (not that he'll ever get to see her use it) is ready and waiting for her. But she likes to get Britt through it first, get her all tense and shivery until she's melting into the comforter and so fucking focused and eager on giving Santana what she needs. It's why they've been so good at this for so long--they work without a lot of the talking bullshit that guys are always tripping her up on.
Britt starts making that panting noise that means she's getting close, and if Santana works it right she can get some for herself and then get another in for Britt before they have to be at Britt's house for dinner. She pushes the pads of her fingers against soft flesh and spreads them a little, feeling Britt stretch; sure enough Britt gasps and shudders, bucking a little with the feeling of it. Santana watches as she slowly relaxes, mouth open and eyes shut, before pulling her fingers out and rolling to one side to get her own pants off.
She starts herself off, because Britt needs a second to reset. She's good, but Britt's better, and she watches Britt slowly come back into herself. She smiles, and Santana almost smiles back; instead she nudges Britt with her toes and jerks her head to the side of the bed. Britt takes the hint and grasps for the shoebox that's tucked under there, pulling out the dildo and the little vibe she sometimes wraps around it.
"Yeah," Santana says, and she can hear the breathiness in her own voice; but Britt knows how much she likes this, so they don't do it too often. The dildo is an okay size--the college guy had tried to suggest something bigger, but she threatened to do something to his dick the next time she gave him a blowjob and he got something decent. It feels good going it, not a stretch but good, like it fills something. Brittany's hair falls against Santana's stomach, and Santana opens her eyes knowing she'll see Brittany watching the thing go in and out of her. Brittany likes to watch. That's come in handy a couple of times.
The vibe clicks on and the hum coincides with the rough moan that escapes from her mouth. Santana likes making noise, but her stupid younger brother is supposed to be home from soccer practice soon and she doesn't really want to give the little shit any more blackmail material. Britt uses her other hand to rub it over Santana's clit, and fuck, it feels so good when it's like this. Santana can smell the scent of Britt's strawberry shampoo, and she clenches around the dildo as she grasps the bedsheets.
When she comes, it's like everything goes blue and glittery for a moment. Like she's underwater or something, can't hear anything but the pulse of her heartbeat, can't see anything but water. It takes her a second to come down, and Britt's already cleaning up the dildo and putting it away.
"Hey," Santana says, her voice a little rough. "I was gonna fuck you with that next."
Britt tucks it into the shoebox and reaches over to give Santana a chaste little kiss. "Next time," she says. "Hey, do you think something can come from nothing?"
Santana closes her eyes again and doesn't bother to push Brittany away when she curls up next to her on the bed.
by templemarker
Notes: For voleuse in femslash10. Brittany/Santana set in Season 1, so this is prior to the love revelations that set my heart aflutter. No spoilers for Season 2, no warnings, 1200 words. Originally posted here.
***
"Do you ever think about, like, babies and stuff?"
Santana peers over the edge of Teen Vogue, seeing Brittany twirl a perfectly pressed curl of blond hair around her finger. She's right in the middle of answering a completely vital quiz that will tell her whether Puck was going to have sex with her this weekend or not, and she seriously does not want to be thinking about babies at the same time.
"No," she says shortly, ducking back behind the magazine defiantly.
"Babies' heads are all squishy when they're born," Britt says. "Did you know that?" If Santana didn't know better she'd think Brittany was actually looking at something, but they'd spent so much time together Santana could tell the difference between Britt's spaced-out look and her trying to focus on something look. That is kind of specialized knowledge.
"You know I didn't read those creepy pamphlets Quinn was carrying around," Santana snaps. "Pregnancy is like the last thing I ever want to think about, Brittany. You double-wrap a dick for a reason." At least, you did once one of your closest friends showed up pregnant to cheerleading practice and pretended nothing was happening for months.
"I know," Brittany says. "That's why I switched to carrying around extra-large condoms. But, babies. It's weird. Quinn's having one, and it's all created out of nothing and stuff. I don't get it."
"I don’t get why we're talking about this," Santana says. She tosses the magazine to the floor and pushes herself up on the bed, crawling over to Brittany, who’s still twirling her hair, jesus christ. One track mind, and Santana’s just irritated enough that getting Britt’s mind onto something else will pose a challenge. She runs a hand up Brittany's leg, stopping just short of her skirt, and Brittany still isn't getting with the picture here, so Santana huffs out a sigh and pulls Britt to her.
When Santana traces her tongue along the seam of Brittany's lips, it's like a switch is flipped and Brittany finally seems to understand that Santana would like her mind to run around on other topics, please and thank you. Brittany kisses like she breathes, like it's the most normal thing in the world for her to be doing at that very moment. As if she and Santana didn't spend two months in seventh grade figuring out how to make it all work and feel okay before ever testing it out on a boy.
They've gotten better with practice--with a lot of practice--and now they work through undressing (just enough) and touching (never enough) with ease. Santana pushed up Britt's skirt to skim hands over her spanky pants and the nothing that lies beneath them. It's actually not that awesome, because the pants are polyester and they don't breathe, but Brittany never listens to her.
Brittany is hot and slick and Santana knows just how to crook her fingers and circle her thumb get Britt excited. Not that it takes much; hell, Santana is already raring to go and that dildo she bribed one her college guys to get her (not that he'll ever get to see her use it) is ready and waiting for her. But she likes to get Britt through it first, get her all tense and shivery until she's melting into the comforter and so fucking focused and eager on giving Santana what she needs. It's why they've been so good at this for so long--they work without a lot of the talking bullshit that guys are always tripping her up on.
Britt starts making that panting noise that means she's getting close, and if Santana works it right she can get some for herself and then get another in for Britt before they have to be at Britt's house for dinner. She pushes the pads of her fingers against soft flesh and spreads them a little, feeling Britt stretch; sure enough Britt gasps and shudders, bucking a little with the feeling of it. Santana watches as she slowly relaxes, mouth open and eyes shut, before pulling her fingers out and rolling to one side to get her own pants off.
She starts herself off, because Britt needs a second to reset. She's good, but Britt's better, and she watches Britt slowly come back into herself. She smiles, and Santana almost smiles back; instead she nudges Britt with her toes and jerks her head to the side of the bed. Britt takes the hint and grasps for the shoebox that's tucked under there, pulling out the dildo and the little vibe she sometimes wraps around it.
"Yeah," Santana says, and she can hear the breathiness in her own voice; but Britt knows how much she likes this, so they don't do it too often. The dildo is an okay size--the college guy had tried to suggest something bigger, but she threatened to do something to his dick the next time she gave him a blowjob and he got something decent. It feels good going it, not a stretch but good, like it fills something. Brittany's hair falls against Santana's stomach, and Santana opens her eyes knowing she'll see Brittany watching the thing go in and out of her. Brittany likes to watch. That's come in handy a couple of times.
The vibe clicks on and the hum coincides with the rough moan that escapes from her mouth. Santana likes making noise, but her stupid younger brother is supposed to be home from soccer practice soon and she doesn't really want to give the little shit any more blackmail material. Britt uses her other hand to rub it over Santana's clit, and fuck, it feels so good when it's like this. Santana can smell the scent of Britt's strawberry shampoo, and she clenches around the dildo as she grasps the bedsheets.
When she comes, it's like everything goes blue and glittery for a moment. Like she's underwater or something, can't hear anything but the pulse of her heartbeat, can't see anything but water. It takes her a second to come down, and Britt's already cleaning up the dildo and putting it away.
"Hey," Santana says, her voice a little rough. "I was gonna fuck you with that next."
Britt tucks it into the shoebox and reaches over to give Santana a chaste little kiss. "Next time," she says. "Hey, do you think something can come from nothing?"
Santana closes her eyes again and doesn't bother to push Brittany away when she curls up next to her on the bed.